Three Big Words
by Viopathartic
Summary: Hermione said the three words that made Harry freeze. A seemingly normal story with an unoriginal plot but it's anything but normal or original. Read and find out yourself what this story is really about.


**Three BIG words **

Viopathartic

* * *

Harry was getting really nervous, sitting in the farthest desk in the Hogwarts library. For some reason, Hermione, his best friend, had asked for them to meet. At midnight.

His initial response was to ask, "Who are you and what have you done to the real Hermione Granger?"

But the look she had given him at the Gryffindor table, while Ron was speaking to Neville, was nothing but desperate pleading. Therefore, he was forced to answer a "yes".

After he made sure his dorm mates were fast asleep, Harry had taken out his old Invisibility Cloak and snuck out of the Gryffindor tower. At first he did not use the cloak and had settled by sneaking around along the walls and tip-toeing his way across the corridors. He nearly got caught by Filch and his freaky cat, Mrs. Norris, but luckily he remembered the purpose of his cloak and got away.

He heard the library doors close with a thud and immediately hoisted the thick cloak over his head.

"Harry?" a girl hissed as she looked around the room. Once he adjusted his glasses, he realized it was Hermione.

"Hey," Harry answered, removing the cloak from his head and setting down on top of the table. Hermione shot him a small smile and quickly approached him.

"Harry, I know it's late and you'd rather be sleeping, but I have an important matter to discuss with you."

Noticing her tone, Harry immediately stood up and came up to her so that he could look at her properly. Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered an unnecessary _Silencio._

"What? What is it? Is it about the Horcruxes?" Yes, the Horcruxes hunt was still on. They had located the Slytherin locket after extensive research. Mundungus Fletcher had stolen the locket from Grimmauld's Place and sold the item to a pawn shop in a store located in Hogsmeade. Lead by the three of them (Ron, Hermione, and Harry) and with the help of many trusted Order members, the shop was raided and the locket was willingly handed over.

Hermione had found a sort of a spell that destroyed the soul inside the locket and with a short visit to the Hospital Wing; the three were fine and set on finding the next horcrux.

Hermione paled considerably but shook her head. Now Harry was confused. What could be so important that Hermione was hesitant to talk about it?

"You should sit," she said, pulling Harry by his arm and setting him down in the seat next to hers. Once that was done, Hermione placed both hands on the table whilst taking a deep breath. Her friend glanced at her in a concerned way but she managed to smile back.

"Oh, I'm making such a big deal out of this."

Harry raised on eyebrow at this; his friend was never one to admit her offenses.

"Are you pregnant?"

That definitely got her attention. Hermione's mouth fell open and her expression resembled pure horror at his statement.

"Honestly, Harry Potter, I would never—do _you _think I would do _that! _I'm not that kind of woman, thank you very much!" She said, offended.

Harry grinned widely, glad that he brought some of Hermione back. "Well, _honestly,_" he mocked, "it is a logical explanation."

"Logical in your sick, perverted mind," Hermione mumbled, fiercely tying her wild hair into a very loose ponytail. He watched as she did so, observing how she twisted the rubber band in odd sequence. Usually he would see girls with mirrors, checking their images to see if their make-up was done right or if they had styled their hair correctly. Hermione didn't seem to care. As long as her hair was away from her eyes while reading (or talking to him), she was content.

"Well," Harry said, this time with an air of exasperation, "what is it?"

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, grabbing his hand and covering it with her own. Harry's breathing quickened at the touch as he wondered why he was feeling this way.

Hermione has always touched him. Whether it was a hug or a reassuring pat on the back, Harry was not unfamiliar with her touches.

She likes me?

Harry jerked back, but his hand was still in Hermione's. She didn't notice this odd gesture but continued to stare at the table with a faraway look.

_Impossible. Hermione Granger...fancying me?_

But maybe it was because of the environment they were currently in. Here they were, just the two of them in a vacant library with not another soul to disrupt them. No sounds of scratching feather pens or pages being turned. No soft sniffs of disapproval from Madam Pince or slight laughter from obnoxious students. It was midnight and save for the two of them, all the other students and teachers were asleep in their comfy beds.

And maybe it was because of the fact that Hermione was _holding _Harry's hand in a way that seems more platonic then one would first observe.

There has been evidence. Tons and tons that Harry chose to ignore over the years.

One that had stuck in his mind for a year, but shucked to the back, popped up again.

_"Oh, come on, Harry, it's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."_

Harry had never blushed so much. Hermione said that--and in front of Ron no less! But it was just Hermione being Hermione, bluntly stating something without much thought as to how it would be interpreted.

Then there was that kiss back in fourth year. Sure, it was one on the cheek, but it was the first kiss given to him by a close friend. Why did she do it? Harry never really pondered as to why because he was too busy saying his goodbyes to his friends.

In fifth year, when he came back from that Room of Requirement after the "kiss" with Cho Chang, she was acting so _cold._ Businesslike--as if they were talking about homework. Was she mad at him? Did _she_ want to kiss Harry?

But why was he even worrying? Would it be..._horrible_ that Hermione Granger loved Harry Potter? People (Rita Skeeter, Cho Chang and such) have already speculated a relationship between the two and so _if_ they get together, it wouldn't be a big surprise to the public.

Actually Hermione Potter did have a nice ring to it. She'd be a great mother; Harry was sure of this. She was passionate in doing the right things and loved to help others no matter the cost. She's also gifted with brilliance and Harry had no doubt that Hermione would succeed in life. She'll probably lead some sort of S.P.E.W organization or work for the Ministry—_no_, she hates the ministry, actually. Harry would be an Auror in the future or a Quidditch player—depends the outcome for War. The four of them; Hermione, Harry, and their two kids (black and brown haired bookworms), would come home in the evening and eat dinner together. Then when they receive their Hogwarts letter, Harry and Hermione would accompany their magical children to Diagon Alley and buy anything they fancied. And later, they'd watch from the station as their little ones get driven to Hogwarts by the express. They'd wave and smile and live their life, happy as can be…

"I love Ron."

_Eh?_

_"_W-what?" Harry stuttered.

Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands. Harry sat still, his hand dropped from where she was holding it. Her tired, humiliated voice whined, "It's awful! I took so long to realize it and I should have acted, but last year was such a disaster. I mean, I thought we would get together once I asked him to Slughorn's Slug Club party, but it didn't turn out the way I planned. And the birds! I was so mad, Harry. Ron was such an idiot!"

"He still is," Harry muttered, his hopeful feelings crushed.

"But why should I, Hermione Granger, worry about relationships?" Hermione continued, "I mean, you_ know _me, Harry. All I care about are books, tests, and anything school related. Nothing in romantic categories! How can Ron possibly like_ me? _He went for Lavender Brown--that airheaded twit--so how can _I_ compete with that?"

"You shouldn't have to," Harry stated in an obvious air. "Ron's thickheaded if he hasn't realized how much you l-l-l,"

Harry gulped, unable to express that word, and instead settled with a wave of his arm.

"_That_."

Hermione just shook her head and looked over at the bookcases stacked with hundred pound textbooks.

_Is she really in love with Ron?_ Harry thought, suddenly. _This is crazy. Hermione Granger_ talking about _love? _

"Hermione, what if you--well, if you really thought about it--mistaken this thing for Ron as _infatuation_ instead of love?"

"I _know _I love him! It's not like you and Ginny, Harry! I actually love him!" Hermione blurted out.

Silence rang through the vacant library. A cold feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach. Ginny was a totally different story. Hermione had seemed to notice Harry's sudden change in mood and rushed to apologize,

"Oh Merlin, I'm--I didn't mean to say that! I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged off her apology and sat back down on the table. He pulled a chair up to rest his feet and draped his arm across his knees. "Ginny...how can I explain this? Ginny was Ron's sister. I never really noticed her before. She was just someone who was around."

Hermione nodded, deciding to sit besides him and was listening intently.

"But suddenly everything was different and I hated it. I wanted to be normal for _one_ day. Harry James Potter as a regular--well, not really since I _am_ a wizard--but regular in the sense of my teenage years. I wanted to date, to laugh off everything as if there wasn't a psycho bastard out to kill me. Ginny was a distraction...a damn good one too." Harry added, remembering her long, luscious red hair and how he used to run his hair through it. He remembered her care-free nature and how they used to talk about only school and other crap not relating to Harry's destiny. And there was a lot of snogging. Basically the whole relationship was lip contact, he mused.

Hermione smiled slightly, agreeing that Harry was very happy during that short period of time.

But then, Dumbledore had died and everything came crashing back down on Harry. Harry Potter was not normal.

And he finally realized he would have to change. Hermione was very impressed on how seriously he had taken his role. _He's a born leader_, she thought with pride.

During the summer, Harry was the one who revived the Order of the Phoenix after their leader's death. He pleaded to be trained by Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody, and he did succeed in the many training sessions. The Golden trio had set out on adventures, scavenging for the Horcruxes. After many successes, Harry was finally convinced (but he would say coerced) by Hermione to return back to Hogwarts.

And now, here they were. In the library. With Hermione confessing her love for Ron...to Harry.

Harry watched as he saw his friend look on with a hint of a smile on her lips. _She's probably thinking about Ickle Ronnekins,_ he thought bitterly.

"So will you talk to him for me, Harry? Interrogate him so that I would no whether or not to confess?"

"No way!" He automatically answered, jumping off from the desk.

"Why not?" asked Hermione, incredulously. She stood up to face him, hands on her hips. _Angry Hermione mood._

_Maybe because I don't want to? Maybe because I like you and think you should date me and not _him.

Of course, Harry had the sense not to say that out loud.

"Well," he paused, stuttering to find a valid excuse. "Me and Ron don't talk about that stuff. It'd be weird to just come up to him and ask something like, 'Hey Ron. Have you ever had the sudden feeling to snog the bloody daylights out of our friend, Hermione Granger?' "

"No, not like that! Discreetly, Harry, discreetly."

"But I--"

"Please Harry!"

Frustrated, Harry ran a hand through his ruffled hair.

_When can I get some sleep?_

* * *

_Some call Voldemort and let him bloody AK me._

Harry looked over his shoulder as he walked, seeing Hermione giving him a thumbs-up. Ron was standing at the end of the corridor, with his back towards Harry, talking to a group of avid Quidditch fans. Suddenly, the bells rang, signaling for everyone to head to class. He was supposed to be in Transfiguration class with Hermione, but she said this was the perfect time to interrogate her potential boyfriend. Ron had a free period so he needn't be rushed. His other friends were leaving and so was Ron. Thinking how he didn't want to run to catch up, Harry pulled out his wand.

"_Diffindo!"_ whispered Harry. Right on the mark. Ron's bag, containing all of his homework, ripped at the bottom. Sheets of paper and pens fell out of it and onto the floor. He swore and bent down to pick them up.

"Here, let me help, Ron."

Ron looked up and his scowl turned to a smile. "Hey Harry, where were you last night? I was about to ask you for a chess match but you weren't in bed."

"It was midnight, Ron."

He shrugged and collected all of his papers. "I couldn't sleep last night so I wanted a distraction."

"Thinking about someone, eh?" asked Harry, hoping to start up the right conversation while steering the subject away from him.

Ron gave his best mate an odd look. "Er, no mate."

"Oh really? Hmm." Harry hoped he sounded nonchalant. "Well, do you like anyone?"

The tips of Ron's ears turned pink and he looked down at his shoes.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, so you _do._ Who?" Harry asked immediately.

"Why?" Ron repeated.

"Well, if you like the girl--and I hope it is a girl--"

"It is!"

"Then that's nice. Ask her out. I'm sure she'll love to go out with you!" Harry said, trying to keep the sound of his voice at a respectable and purely conversational level.

"I haven't been that nice to her in the past years."

"That's right." Harry agreed and Ron gave him a surprised look. "But she likes you."

"She _told _you?!?"

Harry shrugged dismissively. "Yeah. We're close."

"Close?" He could hear the jealous tone in Ron's voice and almost sneered in triumph. _Yeah, Weasley. Close._

"Yeah, close. We talk about those things."

The eyes of his red-haired friend narrowed, suspiciously regarding Harry to see if he was lying or not.

"Well," Ron began in a slightly hesitant tone, "so she said she likes me?"

"She said she loves you."

"Loves me?" shouted Ron. Luckily, no teachers or students were in the corridors to hear. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. Suddenly, Ron smiled.

"Well, then I should ask her out?"

All Harry could do was nod as the thought of Hermione to soon date Ron flashed through his mind. Their first date together, their first _kiss..._soon, it'll be their honeymoon and then first _baby!_

"Harry. Harry! Are you alright?" Ron asked as he looked at his mate's expression which resembled a person who just swallowed a sour lemon.

His black-haired friend shook his head and picked up his books. "Yeah, yeah. Now go ask her out."

"She's in class...and hey, you're supposed to be in class too!"

Harry nodded and once he told Ron to ask her out at lunch, he turned and headed to class.

Once he arrived (and with a bit of lecturing from the Transfiguration teacher, Professor Flirsack), he sat back down besides Hermione. While the teacher's back was facing the chalkboard, Hermione leaned in, an anxious look on her face.

"Well?"

Harry fixed his eyes on the paper, willing himself to not look at her.

In a simple, yet cool tone, he answered, "You made me late."

* * *

After all Harry had done for Ron, he gets _this_ as a reward.

Why was Ron on the table?

With Luna?

Snogging?

In study hall?

"Are you _bloody _serious?"

Ron sprang away from Luna, who was underneath, and wiped his mouth. He looked around, finally aware that everyone, meaning students from every single year, was watching them. He opened his mouth to say something to Harry, but he beat him to it.

"What are you doing? Why are kissing Luna Lovegood?"

"Because you told me to!"

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did. In the corridor this afternoon."

_Are you bloody serious?_

_"No,_ I didn't tell you to snog Luna. I told you to snog _Hermione." _Harry said, slowly.

"_Hermione?" _exclaimed Ron, bemusedly. At this exclamation, a wave of whispers started up, nothing that the students tried to hide.

Harry continued to look incredulously at him. _Is he deaf? Am I speaking another language? Honestly, I specifically said Hermione— _

A part of today's discussion flashed through his mind.

_"Well, if you like the girl--and I hope it is a girl--"_

_"It is!"_

_"Then that's nice. Ask her out. I'm sure she'll love to go out with you!" Harry said, trying to keep the sound of his voice at a respectable and purely conversational level._

_"I haven't been that nice to her in the past years."_

_"That's right." Harry agreed and Ron gave him a surprised look. "But she likes you."_

_"She told you?!?"_

_Harry shrugged dismissively. "Yeah. We're close."_

_No wonder he was surprised! He thought that "she" was Luna and not "she" as in Hermione. So that meant--_

"Y-you thought I was talking about Luna?" Harry dared to ask.

In response to Ron's nod, he groaned. "Hermione is going to _HATE YOU_."

"But-but what did I—" Ron froze with his mouth agape. Harry was about to answer back but noticed his friend's odd behavior. And it wasn't just Ron. Everyone had stopped whispering and giggling. And it so happens that everybody's eyes were on Harry.

No, actually it wasn't. Slowly, Harry rotated on his heels.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione in a curious voice. Her arms were occupied by stacks of textbooks that she would surely finish in day or two. Her school robes were open in the front, revealing a comfortable sweater and a pair of simple jeans. Her hair, as usual, was tied into a hurriedly prepared bun though Harry noticed a few strands had found their way loose.

Cautiously, as if entering a danger zone, she put her books down on an empty table, stepping forward until she lined up with Harry.

"What's happening?" repeated the 17-year-old, her eyes switching back and forth between Harry and Ron and finally landing on Luna.

Hermione was a smart witch; in fact, she was the smartest witch Hogwarts had ever seen (save for Harry's mother). Her eyes scanned the scene. Luna's robes were suspiciously crumpled, Harry was _not_ looking at her but he chose to gaze at the floor, and Ron had lipstick on his…

"Oh," Hermione realized all of the sudden. Harry could sense her tensing and her knuckles were turning white as she held onto her books. She caught her breath and stood up straighter.

"Alright, I'm going to study for our Transfiguration test tomorrow, so I will be back in the Common Room. Bring me back dinner if you can, Harry. Ron, Luna." Hermione nodded to all of them in a way of saying goodbye. Sucking in a wavering amount of air, she turned all the while, forgetting her books, and left in a hurry.

Harry closed his eyes for a minute, digging the palm of his hands into his eyes. Then he slowly turned around and let his glare land on Ron.

He observed that Ron's hands were practically twitching as he tried to keep them off Luna.

"I'm going to find Hermione and we will settle this later," he said, exasperatedly. He turned in the same manner as Hermione and walked to the door.

"And for Merlin's sake, Ron, find a broom closet!"

He sprinted out of the room before another sound can be made. Harry made it into the intersection before listening for any sounds of Hermione.

Rapid steps were coming from the right corridor leading to the Owlery and he just knew that it was Hermione's.

She was standing in the left corner of the Owlery, surrounded by messaging owls, and staring out at the setting sun. He didn't feel right—standing there and watching her. She probably need some time alone…

But Harry hated knowing that she, strong Hermione, was crying over a boy…Ron especially!

"Y-you know," he started, starting up a conversation and immediately feeling the discomfort of being around a crying girl, "Ron, well...he's not worth it."

Hermione suddenly shifted, crossing her arms, a small sniff giving away her current state.

"Hermione…" He cautiously made his way across the room. Harry lightly laid his hand on her shoulder and gently turned her around.

"Do you actually expect to bawl because of a petty thing like this?" asked Hermione. She smiled as she not-so-discreetly wiped unshed tears from her eyes. Harry let go of her shoulder and sighed, taking a step back. Though she was trying to put up a brave face, he realized it was hard for her, seeing the one she fancied with post-snogging symptoms as he stood next to another girl.

"Well—I-sorry, but you _are _a girl." After Harry said this, he realized how exceedingly stupid it must have sounded, nothing that could possibly cheer his friend up. Ron had said something in the same approach in fourth year and he remembered just how well Hermione had taken it.

Surprising, Hermione snorted—or sobbed-- in a fashion that Harry had gotten used to throughout the years he had known her. It was another way of expressing her disbelief or exasperation; sort of like rolling her eyes.

"Wait, sorry. I mean, you are a girl and seeing something like that could hurt—"

He sighed in a frustrated manner, asking himself why he let himself in this situation. He could have left Hermione alone, to let her work out her feelings. In fact, he should have never agreed to this, playing like some sort of matchmaker.

Hermione looked away from him.

Comforting girls was not Harry's forte. The way they cry…it was as if a broken water faucet was running. They stop for a while, only sniffing and wiping their tears. Then he'd say something incredibly stupid and they'd start up again. _Cho Chang,_ he thought bitterly.

Hoping that Hermione wasn't going to be the same, he decided to take another route.

"You know, I thought you were going to confess your love for _me _last night instead of Ron."

At once, he couldn't believe he had actually said it out loud.

His statement left her in silence (from shock, he assumed).

"Really?" she squeaked, a pink tinge reaching her cheeks.

_Might as well say it all and get it over with. _

"Yeah," Harry laughed nervously, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. "It was really odd when I first thought of it, you know, me and you as a couple. I was thinking of the thought of "us" and what'd it be like."

"You were considering it?" Hermione questioned, the tears from before completely gone, leaving her eyes red and puffy.

"Yes. I actually thought it'd be nice."

At his reply, a small smile began to form on Hermione's face. Harry couldn't help but do the same.

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

Harry shrugged. "You said you loved Ron after that."

"So that's why you didn't want to help. You didn't want to see me with Ron. But I made you," she whispered.

"Yeah. I couldn't just _not _help you. Then you'd know," replied Harry, simply.

Hermione stared at him for a long time, contemplated his words and not believing what he had done for her even though he didn't want to do it.

She scrunched her nose—something that Harry thought was adorable.

"What would it be like? I mean really? I never really thought of you that way."

"Same here, until yesterday."

Hermione left her corner and took steady steps towards him. The two met in the middle of the Owlery, under the gigantic glass dome that sheltered the owls.

"Maybe we should try?" Her question was unsure but curious.

Harry jerkily shrugged, his heartbeat rapidly increasing. Hermione just smiled at him—the way she used to when Harry did something remarkably stupid but brave all the while.

They were so _close; _Harry could hear Hermione's breathing, she could hear him breathing through his nose. His glasses were fogging up, but he didn't seem to mind. Harry brushed back a strand of her hair, tucking it behind an ear. She blushed at his touch.

Hermione smelled like ink, he realized, but it wasn't a surprise given the amount of times she spends writing and reading. It was a comforting aroma that just screamed Hermione Granger. Harry realized he could never change her. Not because he can't but because he didn't want to. Despite her nagging sometimes, he knew she was only doing it because she cared.

Merlin, they were about kiss. Something that would change everything. It would change Harry's feeling, his perspective, his whole being! But deep down, he knew this was what he wanted. To be close to her in a way that's more than just friends.

_They were 3 inches, 2 inches, 1 inches, and their lips-- _

"Harry. You're standing on waste products."

"Huh?" Sure enough, when he glanced down, he saw that he had his foot in a small pile of owl pellets. He stared at it, unbelieving. Hating the piece of shit for ruining the most perfect--

"Harry?"

Harry groaned, wondering how Hermione could possibly torture him even more.

"Meet me in the library. At midnight. And bring your cloak."

_Midnight? Why would— _

_Ohhhhhh. _

"Okay," answered Harry, picking up on her blatant suggestion.

"Honestly," Hermione drawled, rolling her eyes. "We're only going to study." For a moment, Harry thought she was serious. He watched her as she turned in an elegant fashion, her hair spinning around, and stepped through the doorway. But then she gave him a small smile behind the threshold—wait, was she flirting?—and left Harry anticipating for their next time in the library.


End file.
